Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Hanson Jun 2010
A year has gone by
and all that is lost,
is crazy Aunt Beth
buried in thoughts.

Her fur coats in summer…
For the one to impress….
Was her dog in a cage,
who was wearing a dress.

His name was Lord Byron,
A title apt for her sense…
Which with all candor,
was not too immense.

She was clad for occasion,
and wore her gloves made of lace,
and her large floppy hat
that covered all of her face.

Her thoughts would be said,
her noises were made.
Her tea must be ready,
but be sure to sashay.

Though a loved one to all,
it was common knowledge that
when she stayed at the house,
there would be one extra gnat.

And though her insanity
drove some out the door,
Aunt Beth will be missed,
and her lunacy more.
Hanson Jun 2010
A city is bombed but do not be alarmed,
for, there is a purpose…nay, a duty to disarm.
It’s easy to get caught in the leadership’s charm…
Even when there is unforgivable harm going on.

Just focus your eyes on the screen over here.
Of course with your ignorance, you’ll have to adhere...
By the off chance that the message comes off as unclear,
simply remember to keep the idea austere.

Don’t think about thinking,
not even an inkling!
Just keep sitting and blinking!
Let your mind keep on shrinking!

Remain in a daze for multiple days…
This way the polls can take time to assay
how long it should take to make the minds go astray,
so they can make their world into a perfect cliché.

It’s happening now, whether realized or not,
every joke and idea have no original thought.
The mind has become an oversized blot,
a place where creation will be immediately swat.

Just put your ideas in a brown paper bag,
you have to admit, they’re more of a nag.
Merely go outside and hang up your flag…
You’ll get a pat on the head and your tail will wag.

But think about a world where everything’s new…
A land where the virtues don’t construe as cuckoo.
Where the mind is reborn with every new dew,
and the corruption of masses has not yet debuted.

No, no, this reality cannot exist,
because, by the leaders, it would be ever so missed.
Unless by some miracle there happens a twist,
and the people of the world start to resist.

— The End —